


Auditory Misunderstandings

by celtic7irish



Series: Discord Key Challenge Fics [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Author knows nothing about vehicle repair, Auto Mechanic Tony, Awkward Flirting, But he’s a good bro too, Client Bucky, F/M, Fluff, Get together fic, M/M, Misunderstandings, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Rhodey is an ass, Sort Of, Swearing, Terrible Flirting TM, a bit of angst, author knows nothing about sign language, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: For the prompt: “I’m supersmart and stuff, but oh boy, when you enter my shop/garage/lab, my tongue is stuck to my palate and you ended up signing to me cause you think I’m mute!”





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phantomas (sil)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sil/gifts).



Tony was waist deep in the engine of a Ford F-250 when Rhodey stuck his head in.  “You’ve got a customer,” he told Tony.  When the engineer didn’t respond, Rhodey sighed and pulled out his laser pen, shining a pinprick of light onto the engine that Tony could see out of the corner of his eye.

Tony grimaced; he wasn’t in the mood to deal with customers right now.  Right now, all he wanted to do was to tear apart the stupid engine on the stupid truck and  _ make it work _ .  Unlike his latest relationship, which had ended just two days ago.

Rhodey moved over and leaned his hip on the truck’s front fender, tapping his feet in a random pattern until Tony glared up at him in frustration.  “Customer,” Rhodey repeated firmly.

“Don’t wanna,” Tony muttered sullenly, turning back to the truck.  Now, where did he put that socket wrench?  “You handle them.  You actually  _ like _ the customers.  It’s what I hired you for.”

Rhodey snorted.  “Okay, first of all, you didn’t hire me.  That was Natasha.  Secondly, I have no idea what this guy’s talking about, which means I need you out there to speak engine-ese with him.”

Tony tossed down the socket wrench in disgust and glared at his friend.  “Engine-ese?” he demanded incredulously.  Rhodey just grinned at him, unrepentant.  Tony looked away first, searching for a rag to wipe his hands with. Not seeing one in his immediate vicinity, he wiped his hands on his jeans instead, adding to the mess of engine oil and grease already there.  There appeared to be a couple of new scorch marks, too, he noted idly.  “Fine, whatever,” he sighed at last, knowing that Rhodey wouldn’t leave him alone until he agreed - or until Natasha came in.  “Send him in.”

Rhodey didn’t argue.  They didn’t normally allow their customers into the garage, but the shop had other customers, and Tony was definitely not fit to be seen in public.  “Thanks,” he said, giving one of Tony’s shoulders a friendly squeeze before walking back out.  Tony raked his hand through his hair, shoving it out of his face before turning back to the engine.  He might as well see if he couldn’t get the spark plugs replaced while he was waiting.  They shouldn’t take long.

Of course, once he started on that, he discovered a frayed cable, which led to a damaged connector, and he quickly lost himself in engine repairs and solutions.  Which meant, naturally, that he missed the customer’s arrival.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye, and Tony shook himself out of what he’d been doing with a scowl, intending to tell the customer he could damn well wait a few more minutes.  He opened his mouth, then promptly shut it in favor of just staring.  The guy was stunning.  Not pretty - Tony had known, and dated, a lot of pretty people over the years - but the kind of drop-dead gorgeous that landed a person in the movies, or as lingerie models.

Dark, long hair pulled back into some sort of half-bun, silver-green eyes that seemed to change as the light hit them; strong, sturdy shoulders and a firm chest that tapered down into a slender waist and an ass that Tony would probably be jerking off to for the next couple of months.  Even dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a henley, Tony could practically see the play of muscles under pale skin.

The man was eyeing him oddly now, and Tony realized that he’d just been standing there, staring like an idiot.   He clicked his mouth shut so hard his teeth ached, and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, ready to apologize for ogling.  He’d been told that was bad manners.

Gorgeous TM \- Tony didn’t know his name yet, he probably should have gotten that before Rhodey left, because this was just unfair, and how could his best buddy do that to him? - looked to his hands, and then flushed.  He raised his own hands and made a quick gesture, and Tony blinked, frowning.  The other man frowned back, and then repeated the gesture, but slower, and things finally clicked in Tony’s head.  The man was  _ signing _ to him!

< _ Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Your coworker didn’t tell me. _ >

Tony tipped his head, opened his mouth, then closed it again.  He knew sign language - Natasha’s mess of a boyfriend tended to turn his hearing aids way down when he got tired of listening to people at the bar where he worked - but he was kind of surprised that this guy did.  Gorgeous and bilingual.  It just wasn’t fair, he thought, grumbling internally.

His tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth, so he did the only thing he could think of with most of his brain shut down, all the blood flowing south; he signed back.

< _ No, it’s fine.  My friend thinks he’s funny. _ >

The man grinned.  < _ My name is Bucky. _ >

Tony tipped his head to the side, not sure he’d read that right.  The man had spelled it out, but really, what sort of name was Bucky?  < _ Bucky? _ > he spelled out, checking.  < _ Is that short for something? _ > he wondered.

The customer shrugged.  < _ My middle name _ > he replied easily.  < _ My friends call me Bucky. _ >

< _ And am I your friend? _ > Tony asked back, grinning, feeling the amusement creep up on him.

Bucky’s lips curved wickedly, and he eyed Tony from top to bottom.  < _ I’d like you to be _ > was the reply, and Tony felt himself flush.  Was this guy - Bucky - hitting on him?  For real?  He was a complete mess, covered in engine crease and sweat and lord only knew what else.  He probably had metal shavings in his hair.

< _ I’ll think about it _ > he finally replied, starting to enjoy the chance to use sign language with this man.  Clint came around now and again to take Nat to lunch or something, but they pretty much worked opposite shifts, so Tony didn’t get to practice much.  < _ My friend said you had some problems? _ > he asked.

Bucky blinked, looked around, then seemed to remember why he was there in the first place.  < _ Oh, yes. _ >  He hesitated, looking unsure, then shrugged.  < _ I will have to show you _ > he finally said, and Tony realized that he didn’t know how to explain the problem without using words.  Tony debated for all of half a second whether or not to reveal that he could speak just fine, thanks so much.  But then he realized that he’d probably just stammer like an idiot and chase the other man off if he tried.  So he kept his mouth shut and just smiled, inordinately pleased when Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back helplessly.

< _ Lead the way. Bucky. _ >


	2. The Lamenting

“I’m such an idiot,” Tony mourned, dropping his head to the counter.  Next to him, Rhodey gave a noncommittal grunt, sipping his coffee.

“You are,” Natasha agreed, settling herself at the kitchen table with a plate of fruit and a cup of yogurt.  She nudged at Clint’s shoulder, rousing the man from where he’d fallen asleep next to his bowl of cereal.  “Bed, Clint,” she told him.  Clint mumbled something unflattering and closed his eyes again.  A moment later, Tony and Rhodey both flinched as the chair crashed to the floor, taking Clint with it.  

“Bed,” Natasha repeated, and Clint didn’t argue this time, waving a vague good night as he shuffled off towards the cot they kept in the back of the shop for when they got too busy to keep up with demand.  Stark Mechanics was well-known around this area, and they did everything from replacing a battery to replacing an engine.  It had gotten to the point that they needed to hire additional employees.  Sam would be starting next week, and Natasha was going to start training Peter to handle the front desk.

“Just tell him that you were too busy staring at his pretty eyes to actually make words,” Rhodey told him.  Tony made a rude gesture, and he grinned, patting Tony on the shoulder. “He’s coming back today to pick up his car.  I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“You’re no help!” Tony called after his retreating back, scowling when Rhodey just laughed at him.  Asshole.  With a heavy sigh, Tony dumped his empty mug into the break room sink and headed back out to the garage to do a final check on Bucky’s motorcycle.

Bucky’s Honda NC700X was a beautiful thing to behold, sleek and powerful, much like its rider. Tony had fallen hard for the crimson and chrome bike, his hands all over it before he’d even asked what the problem was.  Not that it wasn’t obvious; Bucky had stressed the engine nearly to the breaking point.  Tony wondered idly how fast the man had to have been going to do that sort of damage, but the calculations were already running in his head.

He’d told Bucky that he’d have to repair the engine - he was planning to replace it entirely, but the other man didn’t need to know that, since Tony didn’t plan to charge him for a replacement - and to come back in three days.  Bucky had agreed, and with a final signed good-bye, had dropped his keys off at the main desk and left.  Tony had retreated to the garage, pointedly ignoring Rhodey and Natasha as they both gave him odd looks.

“What am I gonna do?” he muttered to himself, scrubbing at his face with callused hands in frustration.  “Oh, hey, Buckaroo, guess what? I can talk, but I didn’t because I felt like an idiot and if I opened my mouth, I was going to ask you if you’d like to go for coffee - no, not actual coffee - and then you got the wrong idea and started signing and that seemed like the best idea ever to keep me from putting my foot in my mouth, but I still think you’re hot and I’d really like to ask you on a date, but that would mean actually talking to you, and you’ll probably be pissed at me for lying.  So, yeah...wanna go out to dinner? Maybe see a movie?”

It sounded stupid even to him, and he let out a low growl of frustration, then decided it didn’t matter if he didn’t talk to the guy today.  His bike was fixed, he’d settle his bill and be on his way, and Tony would probably never see him again.  So why did it make his chest ache to think of never seeing the other man’s flustered expression or charming smile again?  Dammit.

“Tony, your guy’s here,” Rhodey told him, sounding far too amused to have just arrived.  Tony felt the heat creeping up the back of his neck, so embarrassed it was almost painful.  Just how much had Rhodey heard?

“Words, Tony,” his best friend reminded him.  “Now, come on.”

Tony dithered for another moment before throwing his shoulders back and lifting his chin, determinedly following Rhodey out to the main office.  He could do this.  Really.  After all, the guy was just a customer.  No biggie.

Tony just wished he believed that.


	3. The Truth Comes Out

Two months later, Tony was schlepping around in the motor of a Cadillac when Sam peeked his head in.  “Hey, Tony,” he said, “there’s a guy here askin’ for you.  Says you did some work on his bike a while back.”

Tony raised his head so fast he banged it on the hood.  “Ouch, fuck, dammit!” he swore, his hand going up to rub at the sore spot.  He turned to Sam.  “Tall, dark, and brooding?” he demanded.

Sam shrugged.  “I dunno,” he said.  “I guess.  I mean, the only vibe I got from him was ‘asshole’, but sure, I guess I can see that.  The bike’s a beauty, though,” he said, almost reverently.

Tony was torn between dread and excitement.  He wanted to see Bucky again, but the guy probably still thought he was a mute.  Tony had been sorely tempted to look up the guy’s number - he’d given it to them when he’d brought in the NX700X - and call him, because he’d figured that the worst thing that could happen would be that Bucky would hang up on him.  But he had been a coward and hadn’t done it, and now it was about to bite him in the ass.

Tony was still thinking furiously when he walked into the main room, which was the only reason he didn’t see the blonde man standing next to Bucky.  He was made aware quickly enough when the guy spoke, though.  “Tony?” Steve asked, sounding surprised.  Tony looked up and paled; Steve Rogers, ex-military and bodyguard to the rich and famous.  And one of Tony’s ex-lovers.

Before Tony could figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now, Steve turned to Bucky, hands on his hips.  “This is the guy you couldn’t shut up about?” he demanded incredulously.

“Stevie!” Bucky snapped back, flushing bright red.  Tony was torn between amusement and terror, but terror won out; everything was about to come crashing down.  Especially if Bucky had told Steve that Tony was a mute.

“Steve, what a pleasant surprise!” Natasha said, striding forward and gripping Steve’s arm firmly.  Steve looked down at her in surprise, but whatever look she was giving him must have been effective, because he allowed himself to be towed away, Natasha chatting with him about...whatever it was that those two had in common.

Rhodey gave Tony a raised eyebrow and a  _ go on _ gesture, and Tony nodded tightly; there was no more time to think.  If Steve opened his big mouth and told Bucky that not only could Tony talk, but that they were exes, it would be all over before it even began.  At least this way, if it was going to go nowhere, it would be of Tony’s own doing, and nobody else’s.

< _ We need to talk _ > he signed, tossing his head back towards the garage.  Bucky frowned, looked at him, turned to look at Steve, who was standing and talking to Natasha with his arms crossed in front of his chest, then back at Tony.

< _ What’s going on? _ > he asked.  < _ Do you two know each other? _ >

Tony winced.  < _ Please _ > he asked, desperate to not have to hash this out in front of Steve and his coworkers and the other customers.  He preferred to be humiliated in private, so he could lick his wounds afterwards.  Usually by drinking himself into oblivion.

Bucky considered him for a long moment, but finally relented with a nod. < _ All right _ > he agreed.  Tony gave him a grateful look, then turned and led the way back outside and around the side of the building and into the garage.

The moment the door closed behind them, Bucky stopped, leaning against the wall next to the door and crossing his arms over his chest, the pose eerily reminiscent of Steve’s  _ I Do Not Approve  _ posture.  Great, they were probably childhood best friends who had served in the army together, because Tony’s luck was just that shitty sometimes.

Taking a deep breath, Tony decided he might as well go for broken.  “So I can talk, and Steve and I used to date. Like...a long time ago.”  Seven years, five months, and twenty-three days ago, in fact, but who was counting?  “And I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you, that was stupid, but I like you and I didn’t want you to leave, and when I open my mouth, I say stupid things and make people angry and that’s why it never works out, so when you signed, I just signed back because it was safer if I didn’t talk.  And I’m really sorry.  Really.”  He stopped, wincing as he realized that he was rambling, again.  Why couldn’t he have just stopped after the first couple of sentences?

Bucky stared at him for the space of two heartbeats, then turned on his heels and walked out without a word, leaving Tony staring after him, feeling something in his chest fracture.  Dammit, what the fuck was wrong with him?  This was why he could never hold onto a relationship for more than a few months.  Even Pepper had dumped him after five, and she’d already known what a mess he was.  It served him right for getting too invested after having only met the guy twice. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Not knowing what else to do, Tony turned towards the waiting cars.  Later, he’d hit the bars and maybe find a one-night stand to help him take his mind off of today’s clusterfuck.

Still, even as he reached for the pliers, he had a feeling he wouldn’t forget the other man anytime soon.


	4. The Helpful Friends

“Tony, you can’t keep moping,” Rhodey told him.  Natasha made a sound of agreement and slid a bowl of ice cream over to him - plain vanilla, but the caramel syrup and sprinkles followed a moment later, so Tony supposed he could forgive her as he poured an overly generous amount over his ice cream.

“‘M not mopin’,” Tony managed around his spoonful of cold, creamy goodness, feeling the caramel practically glue his mouth shut.  “Jus’ don’t wanna work.”  And that wasn’t strictly true; Tony kind of owned the auto repair shop, so he had to actually work to keep it running, but he had people who could do the basic repairs and replacements, leaving him only the more complicated ones; the ones that required the rebuilding of an engine, or in-depth diagnostics beyond what their machines were able to tell them.

“You’re definitely moping,” Natasha told him seriously, working on her own bowl of mint chocolate chip.  Tony glared at her half-heartedly, but didn’t argue.  He wouldn’t win, and silence was preferable over the ass-kicking she’d give him if he protested.

“You’d think he’d been mooning over the guy for  _ months _ ,” Clint added, slouched in the chair next to Natasha, his feet resting on the empty chair across the table.  “Besides, I hear he’s Rogers’ best friend.  You didn’t stand a chance.”

Tony turned his glare to the blonde.  “Is that supposed to be comforting?” he demanded.  “Because you suck, Barton.”  The bouncer just shrugged, unconcerned about Tony’s mini crisis.

“Whatever, dude,” he said.  “But have you thought about maybe trying to talk to him? Like an adult?”

Tony rolled his eyes.  “He’s not answering his phone,” he mumbled, embarrassed to be admitting that he was using confidential customer information for the sole purpose of trying to talk to the guy again.  But it kept going to voicemail, and he was too much of a coward to actually leave a message.  And Bucky didn’t know his cell phone number.

Clint rolled his eyes right back.  “I meant in person,” he clarified.  “Like...he’s Rogers’ best friend.  Rogers is easy to find.  This guy Bucky is probably somewhere nearby.”

Natasha jabbed Clint in the arm with the back of her spoon.  “We call that stalking,” she told her boyfriend blithely.

Clint grinned at her.  “Yeah? And?” he teased back, reaching out and tugging affectionately on a stray strand of red curls.  “It worked out pretty well for us.”  Rhodey made a quiet gagging sound, and Tony agreed.  Clint was very proud of the fact that he’d gotten Natasha to agree to a date only so he’d quit following her around like a lovesick puppy.  Tony was still of the opinion that Nat should’ve just let him call the cops on the idiot.

“That’s because you’re special,” Natasha informed him archly, but the smile she gave him afterwards was full of affection, and Clint practically melted.

“He does have a point, though,” Rhodey pointed out.  All three of them turned to stare at him in surprise.

“I do?” Clint asked, then grinned widely.  “Yeah, I do! See?” he demanded, sticking his tongue out at Tony like the eight year old he was.

Natasha bopped him lightly over the head, and Rhodey ignored him, looking at Tony.  “Not the stalking bit,” he added, just in case Tony hadn’t already figured that out.  “But you should talk to him face to face.  That way, at least you’ll know for sure if you never had a chance.”

Tony frowned at him. He frowned back.  Clint switched his gaze between the two of them like he was watching a tennis match.  Natasha scraped her spoon against the bottom of her bowl and casually dropped the bomb.  “He’ll be at that veterans fundraiser we attend every year.”

It took a second to process that, and then Tony turned to stare at her.  She stared back.  “And when, exactly, are we attending this?” he asked slowly.

Natasha grinned sharply.  “Tonight,” she informed him crisply.  “I knew you’d forget, and I didn’t want to give you time to back out.  You’ve got two hours to get ready yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”  It wasn’t an idle threat, either; Natasha would absolutely storm into his house - regardless of whether the door was locked or not - manually strip him and redress him, and probably do something with his hair.

Tony groaned.  “You’re a bitch,” he told her without any real heat.  Next to him, Rhodey snorted, and Clint wisely kept his mouth shut, though his eyes were sparkling with suppressed mirth.

“The two of you are going as well,” Natasha told them.  “I’ve already cleared it with your boss,” she told Clint, who had opened his mouth to argue.  He closed his mouth and sighed, giving her the saddest eyes he had.  Clint hated dressing up in anything fancier than jeans and a t-shirt, and he’d probably spend most of the night trying to find a way to wriggle out of it.  Then Natasha leaned over and whispered something in his ear, and he turned bright red.

“Gotta go get dressed!” he managed before bolting.  Tony and Rhodey watched Clint’s hurried retreat before turning to look at Natasha, who just smirked at them, then slowly licked the last of the ice cream off her spoon.  Rhodey made a choked noise and turned away, and even Tony blushed, though he held her stare.  She smiled approvingly.

“You’ll be fine,” she reassured him, her tone gentler now, soothing.  “I promise.”

“And if I’m not?” Tony asked curiously.

Natasha’s eyes went hard and cold.  “Then it’s his loss,” she said simply.  There was conviction there in her tone, as if she really believed that there was no way somebody like Bucky could not want somebody like Tony.

As Rhodey’s hand came to rest supportively on his shoulder, Tony just wished he believed it, too.


	5. The Resolution

Tony held the glass of champagne lightly in his hands, idly watching the liquid shift as he tipped the glass back and forth.  It was his third glass of the night, but he hadn’t actually taken a single sip yet.  Instead, his eyes were mostly busy tracking Bucky across the floor, watching the man smile and flirt and dance with anybody who asked while Tony kept to the walls and away from the dance floor, trying to gather the courage to just go talk to the man.

Rhodey was over by the buffet, chatting up a couple of guys that had apparently been his superiors in the Air Force, and Natasha and Clint were on the dance floor, showing off with intricate dance steps and liquid grace.

“He’s been mooning over you, though damned if I know why.”  Tony jumped, then turned to scowl at the large blonde that had somehow managed to sneak up to him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.  “And why are you over here, anyhow? Shouldn’t you be schmoozing with the rest of the vets?” he asked, waving his hand to indicate the various men and women scattered around the room, talking with the donors.

Steve shrugged.  “Some people might say I’m talking to the most important guy here,” he said with a small grin that made Tony’s heart ache, just a little.  He remembered how good the two of them had been for a while, but in the end, they were just too different. They wanted different things out of life, and so they had eventually decided to go separate ways.  It had taken months for Tony to get over that breakup, but now he could look at Steve and feel more nostalgic and wistful than heartbroken.

A burst of laughter broke Tony’s concentration for a moment, and his eyes automatically sought out Bucky.  “He’s pissed at me,” he said, continuing their conversation.  “Not that I blame him.”

Steve snorted, and Tony looked up.  Steve smiled, then, wide and sincere.  “You’re an idiot,” the blonde told him cheerfully.  “Do you remember the first time you tried to ask me out for a date?”

“Oh, god, don’t remind me,” Tony moaned, throwing a hand over his eyes.  “That was mortifying! I felt like a drunk six-year-old, for all the sense I was making.”

“I think the muteness might have been an improvement,” Steve teased, and Tony frowned at him.  It wasn’t that funny.  “Besides, Bucky was the one that jumped to the wrong conclusion.”  He raised a single eyebrow.  “And you probably made a more favorable impression with the sign language anyhow.  Though you really should’ve told him sooner,” he reproached mildly.

“Gee, you think?” Tony grumbled, still watching Bucky.  He didn’t know if the other man’s ears were burning or what, but those silver-green eyes rose and sought out Steve, who was standing right next to Tony.  There was a flicker of alarm, and then Bucky was excusing himself and making his way over.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Steve murmured under his breath.  Tony looked at him, already panicking, and Steve rolled his eyes.  “Don’t fuck this up,” he told him.  The same advice Rhodey had given him days before, for all the good it had done him.

Tony resisted the urge to flip him off - or beg him to not leave him to face Bucky alone - because he was fucking adult, and was therefore perfectly capable of handling his own relationship problems.

He could practically  _ hear _ Rhodey laughing at him from across the room.

“You can do this, Stark,” he told himself firmly as Bucky approached, his gaze tracking Steve’s graceless escape before he turned to look at Tony.They both stood there, staring at each other, neither one of them having any idea hot to broach the conversation they both needed to have.

Tony’s phone buzzed in his pocket at the same time Bucky’s rang.  Tony pulled his phone out and glanced at the screen, grateful for the distraction, but he reconsidered immediately.  He had exactly three messages; one each from Rhodey, Natasha, and Clint, and they all said the same thing.

_ Apologize, dumbass! _

Tony looked up and glared at his friends where they were all standing in a cluster, grinning at him from across the room.  Clint gave him two thumbs up, and Tony flipped him off.

Bucky’s huff of amusement drew his attention back to current situation, and he grimaced, opening his mouth to apologize.  Bucky was giving him an awkward half smile, and he turned his phone so Tony could read the screen.  It seemed his friends weren’t the only ones who were getting involved.

_ You can’t be mad at him for not talking if you won’t talk either. Jerk. :) _

Tony made a surprised noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.  “Mine, too,” he offered sheepishly, showing Bucky his own phone.  “I guess we must make quite the pair, huh?”

Grey eyes lifted at that and searched his expression for something.  Tony wanted to look away, but he was pretty sure that Natasha would literally kill him if he backed out now.  “D’you think so?” Bucky asked, his tone hesitantly hopeful.

Tony rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.  “Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I do like you.”  He winced; he sounded like a teenager confessing to his first crush.  He closed his eyes.  “Let me start over,” he tried, taking a quick breath before opening them again and speaking before he lost his nerve.

“I’m sorry that I lied to you, I didn’t mean to, honest.  You walked in and I felt like an idiot, and I was pretty sure that the only words that were going to come out of my mouth were ‘fuck me’, so it was probably better that you signed to me, because then I could pretend that I actually have conversational skills.  And I figured you were just a customer, and that would be the end of that, but then you kind of flirted with me, too, but you were still signing, and I just couldn’t tell you.”

Bucky was watching him curiously.  “And the second time?” he asked.  “When I came to pick up the bike?”  

Tony felt the dull flush creep up his cheeks.  “I liked talking to you like that,” he admitted.  “I mean, Natasha and Clint would have had no problems reading our conversation, but nobody else could.  And I suck at relationships, and I still figured that after you got your bike, you wouldn’t be back again.  And I had no idea that you were friends with Steve, honest.  Or I would have definitely told you, because I hate his disapproving face.”

Bucky snorted.  “You should see his puppy dog eyes,” he muttered.  “Oh, you already have,” he corrected when Tony’s lips twitched upwards.  

“Yeah,” Tony agreed.  Then hesitated.  “He told you that he and I used to date, right?” he asked.

Bucky nodded, and now he was the one blushing.  “Yeah, that was a really uncomfortable conversation,” he told Tony.  “One that I really hope I never have with him ever again.”  He paused.  “He’s watching me right now, isn’t he?” he sighed.

Tony glanced across the room again, then nodded.  “Yep.  He’s over there talking with Rhodey and Nat.  My friends,” he clarified when Bucky looked confused.  “You met them at the shop.”

Bucky made a soft, “Oh,” of realization, and then fell silent.  Tony fell silent as well, and they were back to the awkwardness of before.

“Umm…” Bucky started, but then scowled.  “Dammit, whatever,” he muttered.  And before Tony could say anything - not that he had any idea  _ what _ to say - Bucky lifted his hands and started to sign.

< _ Forgive me for being an idiot? _ > he asked.

Tony’s eyes widened, but he responded in kind.  < _ Of course! Forgive me for not telling you sooner? _ >  

Bucky made the same gesture in return, then paused.  < _ Our friends are nosy.  We should do something about that. _ >

Tony agreed completely.

< _ What do you suggest? _ > he asked, grinning when Bucky reached out and grabbed his hips, pulling him close, so that their mouths were only inches apart.

“Just this,” Bucky murmured, then leaned in and kissed him.  Tony pressed his hand against Bucky’s chest, sweeping across it in two short gestures.

< _ Awesome _ .>


End file.
